


Scented

by silentdescant



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drabble, Leather, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tang of leather filled Jensen’s nostrils when he breathed in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scented

**Author's Note:**

> Another daily writing achievement. Unbeta'd.

The tang of leather filled Jensen’s nostrils when he breathed in, and the smell went a slithering tendril of warmth through his entire body. He relaxed, in spite of the anticipation, and hummed under his breath.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Jeff said in a low, gruff rumble. His voice sounded thick and laden with sleep, so Jensen didn’t feel too bad about turning off his alarm and sleeping in too.

“What’re you wearin’?” Jensen asked, turning his face against the pillow. Light was beginning to fight its way under his eyelids and he wanted to stay in this half-asleep doze for as long as possible.

“What makes you think I’m wearing anything?” Jeff replied. Jensen could hear the grin in his voice.

Jensen breathed in deeply again and smiled. “I can smell it.”

Jeff’s hand appeared at Jensen’s back, up high between his shoulder blades. He slid it up until he was cupping the nape of Jensen’s neck and squeezed gently. “Tell me,” he commanded softly. “Tell me what you smell.”

“Leather,” Jensen answered. “Worn. Warm. Soft.”

“You can smell all that?”

“Mmmmm.”

Jeff swung his leg over Jensen’s hips, straddling him. “So take a guess,” he said as he kneaded Jensen’s shoulders with both hands. Jensen relaxed even further into the bed. “What’m I wearing?”

Jensen knew the answer. There were only a few leather items in Jeff’s closet, and he wouldn’t be wearing a winter coat or a leather jacket in bed. The vest, though. It could be Jeff’s motorcycle vest, or maybe the chaps he wore over his jeans sometimes when he went riding. Jensen couldn’t feel anything but Jeff’s weight through the sheet that separated them, but he hadn’t heard any creaking or squeaking when Jeff moved. It must be something more flexible, higher quality and worn to softness.

“Motorcycle vest,” Jensen finally answered, voicing his guess on a sigh.

Jeff’s weight shifted above him, and when he spoke, his voice was right in Jensen’s ear, a contented whisper. “You wanna take a ride with me?”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
